


A Vision In White

by AlphaStarr



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff, Lingerie, M/M, PWP, Valentine's Day/White Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 16:40:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6914989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphaStarr/pseuds/AlphaStarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Libra is new to the whole "non-religious holiday" celebration method, Lon'qu is embarrassed, and Anna makes a serious killing off holiday merch.</p><p>Or: this is entirely the wrong time of year, but <em>Libra in lingerie</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Vision In White

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sheepskin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheepskin/gifts).



> because there is nothing better for birthdays than porn of your rarepair

It was, perhaps, Say'ri who first set the thought in motion.

There had been a chance encounter one eve in Anna's camp commissary, Libra seeking to restock his exhausted paints, Say'ri carefully browsing the variety of objects in a display that stood beside the scant leftovers of discounted goods from Valentine's Day. In his defense, Libra _had_ attempted to merely find the appropriate tone of watercolor paint and leave after paying, but it was physically impossible to avoid ovehearing; the parts of the store that did not seem to be a grocer's or armory-shop were intimately close-quartered. He was unable to even browse the selection of paints without venturing so close that he could feel the heat of the other bodies occupying the cramped area, his muscles clenched tightly as he desperately tried to obtain what he'd come for without actually touching anyone.

"I _did_ get in a selection of beautifully laced dresses," Anna suggested, leaning over the counter to aid Say'ri in her shopping. "Each one unique from the last, available in several sizes. Inigo bought one for his sister earlier today-- naturally, of course, the only gift he recieved last month, and the only one he'd be able to reciprocate."

"Fie, madam, I fear no such garb would suit the recipient of my gift..." Say'ri directed her with a wry look. "Lest you happen to have one capable of transforming along with a manakete's power."

"I might have a sister who knows a sister who can do those custom..." Anna frowned, tapping her lower lip once or twice. "But she doesn't live near here. It might take a few weeks just to even reach her. Of course, if you're expecting to get something from Tiki _again_ next year, you could put in an order now. It'll definitely be ready by then."

"Certainly, something I will consider... provided we both survive the war. But I still have a mere fortnight before this year's holiday..." Say'ri looked conflicted. "I cannot merely purchase sweets... not when Lady Tiki so carefully crafted her gift to me for Valentines' last month, deigning to use her divine flame to temper her handmade chocolate. T'would be an insult to give anything less, an insult to both her sentiment and mine."

"Hey, Libra," Anna called, unnessecarily leaning in Libra's direction. She was so close he could almost feel her breath. "Maybe you can give Say'ri some ideas. What're you getting Lon'qu for White Day?"

Libra backed away from the paint shelf altogether as he gave her a perplexed look, "Pardon?"

"I mean, you _are_ getting him something for White Day, right?" Anna pinned him with a curious glance. "Admittedly, it's a bit more widely celebrated in the Valmese nations, but Lon'qu's originally from around there, right?"

"I'm afraid I've never celebrated White Day before... nor heard of it, for that matter," Libra admitted.

Indeed, as the case had been, Libra had never celebrated Saint Valentine's Day outside the clergical saint's day traditions, either-- not until Lon'qu, with burnt hands and wrists, had quietly presented him with a small box bearing several clumsily shaped chocolates nearly three weeks ago, expressed his feelings with a gruff, "I care for you" and a barely-there touch on the shoulder. He left promptly, after that, coughing up smoke and wiping char from his face onto a pitifully ruined scrap of apron. It wasn't until much later that evening that he learned what any of it had _meant,_ Cherche cheerfully recounting Valentines' Days past and present during the second shift of evening patrols.

(And, in all honesty, Libra had felt terrible afterwards-- guilty, he thought, that Lon'qu had gone to such efforts for a tradition he hadn't even known of. Guilty, his heart confirmed, and so beautifully touched by the sentiment.)

"It is a way for those who recieve gifts in February to return the sentiment," Say'ri's lip turned upward as she thought on her own chocolates, little more than lumps of char scorched by dragonbreath. "It is considered a heartfelt response if your return gift is something close to thrice the value of that which you recieved... but a gift of equivalent or lesser value can be considered insulting, a symbol of a sentiment recieved but unappreciated. 'Tis hence from which my difficulty in choosing springs."

"Ah, I see," and Libra wondered if it was at all possible to proceed in this line of questioning with any sort of discretion. As subtly as possible, "And... appropriate gifts for this occasion?"

"Not a book of scripture, if that's what you're thinking," Anna chuckled, wholly in her element. Displaying her wares, "High-quality chocolates, for one, though you might want a kit to make your own. Clothes, jewelery, lingerie, accessories... I even had someone custom-order an engraved axe last week! Of course, all of it has to be white... hence the name, White Day."

"That makes sense," Libra nodded slowly. "White as a symbol of clarity, right?"

"Um... sure!" Anna smiled too widely for it to be true.

"I never thought on the meaning of the tradition such, but I admit I like that interpretation," Say'ri pursed her lips, at last selecting several skeins of a thick, ribbon-flat white yarn and a pair of what she guessed were appropriately sized knitting needles. "I would like to purchase these."

"That's going to be 843 gold," Anna beamed back at her. "I didn't know you knew how to knit."

"I do not," Say'ri answered quite frankly, counting out what seemed to be nearly all of the gold she was carrying. "But I would presume, neither did Lady Tiki know how to make chocolates when she took it upon herself to make them for my sake... I must triple her efforts."

"Okay... but if it doesn't work out, you know where my shop is," Anna gladly exchanged the gold for the supplies, "Don't forget our return policy-- unopened, within 24 hours only."

Say'ri bade her a quick farewell after that, and Libra found himself under the close and direct scrutiny of the shopkeeper. To his credit, he did manage to endure her curious stare for nearly an entire minute.

"So," Libra at last sighed. His mind had been made up since Say'ri had first explained the reciprocal nature of White Day, but even so, he hesitated. Then, "Is this everything you had shipped in for the holiday, or...?"

"Oh," answered Anna, grinning wickedly. "This is only the start of my stock!"

* * *

That was how, Libra supposed, he'd ended up with half a dozen garments made entirely from lace, desperate to figure out exactly _how_ he was supposed to put them on.

It was an impulse buy, and Libra knew it. He was fully and completely aware that perhaps, if he'd thought a bit more about the gift and what he was capable of giving, perhaps he wouldn't have chosen _his own body,_ least of all in... well. This. But, if he had to be honest, it was all he could think of when he visualized Lon'qu, his bandaged fingers, his timid confession, the delicately sweet chocolates and the sheer _vulnerability_ they'd arrived with.

And so, on went the strappy smallclothes, semitransparent lace in the front, little more than a ribbon-frame for his asscheeks in the back. On, then, went the stockings-- Libra could at least recognize those, the edges of lace tickling the insides of his thighs, still sensitive from the heat of that afternoon's bath. The garterbelt, too, though it took him a moment to recognize the clips and straps as the same material pegasus knights used to keep their stockings aloft, the rest of the garment altogether too delicately embroidered to be servicable in battle.

The corset was next, and though Libra had seen them before-- even _Lon'qu's_ assassin uniform had one-- he had never before worn one firsthand, nor had he ever seen one with quite so much lace and ribbon. Immediately upon getting it around his middle (an adventure within itself, given the width of his shoulders), he became acutely aware that whatever the size of his pectorals, he had nowhere near enough bust to quite completely pull off the cut, cupless though it may have been. He took in a breath and began tightening the strings best as he could, hoping that he could cinch it tight enough that it wouldn't slide down too far. Was it supposed to obscure a portion of the garterbelt? Were the other two miniscule lacings in the front of the corset supposed to also be tightened, or were they merely decorative? Was it meant to dig into the side of his ribs like that?

Libra grimaced as he felt the corset awkwardly slide down again and took another breath to see if he could tighten it any further, though it was already impeding his breathing. Just as he was halfway through getting his hands thoroughly tangled in the strings, though, he felt a breeze swoosh by his uncomfortably-bared buttocks and the accompanying noise of a tentflap being opened.

"I, uh," Lon'qu seemed frozen, even as the tentflap fluttered closed behind him. He sputtered momentarily, cheeks flushed, before settling into a silent stare.

"Um," Libra paused awkwardly mid-tie, grateful that he had something to occupy his hands in that moment. "Happy White Day?"

"I, uh," Lon'qu repeated, leaning over to pick up the (embarrassing!) veil that had been part of the set. Once he managed to recollect his coherency, "I think that one laces in the front."

"W-what?" Libra made a small noise of absolute mortification as his cheeks began to rival Lon'qu's for redness.

"I've, um," Lon'qu swallowed, finding his mouth had gone very dry at the sight of Libra, in all that lace, blushing all the way down to his neck. "One of my jobs in Ferox was escorting Olivia's dancing tour. I've... seen things."

"Oh," Libra replied faintly, feeling rather foolish.

"Would you," and Lon'qu seemed to snap out of whatever hypnotic trance he'd fallen into as he took a step forward, "Would you let me help you with that?"

"I... yes, of course," Libra smiled a bit sheepishly, shuffling over to display where his fingers were badly tangled at his back.

Lon'qu set the lace veil on the bedroll, then, and began deftly undoing the knots choking Libra's fingers of their circulation, fingers smoothing over the red marks where they'd been bound, breath hot and open over the back of his neck in a way that made every hair stand on end.

"Turn around," Lon'qu commanded when he'd at last managed to get the corset to its original opened state, nearly unlaced altogether, and the sound of his voice crept from Libra's ears straight down his spine.

"Like this?" and, careful to avoid hitting anything with his arms, Libra turned to face him, feeling incredibly _intimate_ as Lon'qu closed the boning around him again, firm hands pressing against his sides before tightening the laces, fingers brushing softly against his abdomen.

"Exactly," Lon'qu breathed, the ghost of the word kissing Libra's cheek as he finished the bowknot. Gently setting the veil in Libra's hair, " _Exactly_ like that."

"Lon'qu," Libra answered, not sure if his shortness of breath was from the corset or from the way his stomach swooped at Lon'qu's voice. Pale fingers grasped a skilled wrist as Libra pulled Lon'qu's hand up to lie flat against his chest. "Can we try..."

"Yes," answered Lon'qu immediately, sliding the thumb of his other hand to ever-so-slightly brush over the pectoral opposite.

Libra drew a deep breath when he found a nipple, his hips jerking involuntarily into nothing. Lon'qu graciously offered up his leg for support, and Libra hooked one of his stocking-clad feet behind it, slinging his arms over Lon'qu's gloriously shaped shoulders.

"Yes," agreed Libra, finding his hips moving of their own accord when Lon'qu skimmed over his nipple again. He exhaled, "Do you... do you like this?"

Lon'qu made a choked noise, his hands sliding down to pull Libra in closer by the junction where ass met thigh. His erection pressed against the slide of Libra's hip, and quite frankly spoke for itself. Still, a reply: "I do."

"Good..." Libra's voice seemed to fog the air with its heat, and he leaned in to claim a very thorough kiss indeed.

Lon'qu groaned softly into the mouth that undid him, lip by lip, softly snagging with gentle teeth, tenderly sweeping with hints of a tongue. He answered with another squeeze to the curve of Libra's ass, the suspension ribbon of his garter belt snapping roughly against the back of his thigh.

Libra flinched from the surprise of the clip on his stocking coming free altogether, the way it made his smallclothes shift, left the back of his stocking hanging messily.

"S-sorry," Lon'qu murmured, his voice rough from the arousal.

"Don't apologize," Libra groaned, his ardor only heightened. He pushed Lon'qu's shoulder, insistent, "Please... lay down."

And Lon'qu could do nothing but comply, his eyes clinging to the way Libra adjusted himself in his panties--his cock pressed against his stomach, balls cupped by lace near-obscenely-- and proceeded to eye Lon'qu's body hungrily, pulling open the ties to his robe. With an uncharacteristic urgency, Libra fumbled with the buttons of Lon'qu's pants, at last giving up and popping them away.

"S-sorry," Libra cringed, bit his lip.

"It's fine," Lon'qu replied, licking his dry lips. "Better than fine."

"I... if you say so," Libra answered, his grimace melting into a shaky smile. He pulled Lon'qu's smallclothes away, leaving his cock to sway heavily midair. With a near-sinful lick of his lip, he gave it a few tentative strokes before reaching for the lubricant he'd set beside the bed, whetting his fingers before stroking him more firmly, more confidently.

Lon'qu shuddered, hips twitching minutely into Libra's hand, shifting his weight to one arm as he carefully stretched out to the bladder of lubricant, snagging a thick glob from the top and sliding his palm down Libra's lower back in an unspoken query. When Libra undulated, pushed his ass back against the suggestion, Lon'qu had his answer, slipping past the frame of his assless panties to rub firmly against the entrance there.

Libra moaned-- soft, low-- when Lon'qu slid a finger in, still an easy sort of looseness from when he'd fingered himself clean that afternoon. Parted like this, deft fingers in his ass, on Lon'qu's lap, fondling a cock that would follow sooner rather than later-- pleasure crept up Libra's spine, dipped into his chest. He took a ragged breath.

That was enough for Lon'qu to worry, beckoning Libra to lean in closer. He let himself fall to his back completely and, with a newly-freed hand, tugged open the ties of the corset.

"Ah..." Libra moaned, half from the pleasure of Lon'qu pushing in a second finger. "And after you went through the trouble of tying it..."

"It's fine," Lon'qu grunted. His fingers twisted, probed to distraction, "Breathe."

Libra gasped, his thighs trembling as Lon'qu brushed something _wonderful._ It was not quite breathing, but it was close enough, and Libra pulled that hand away, slid up to align their bodies, carefully guiding Lon'qu to enter.

"Let me," Libra bit his lip, pressing his hips down harder as he stretched thickly over the glans. "Let me take all of you..."

"Y-yeah," was the only word Lon'qu managed as he sucked in a breath, trying to keep his hips from subconsciously twitching into Libra's body, warm and slick.

The sound Libra made as he slid down in one smooth, luxuriantly slow push-- Lon'qu wondered if it was so obscene that there were no words capable of describing it. He could only find his reply in a strangled noise as he rocked up into that heat, the intimacy of the connection requiring no words. Lon'qu suddenly found himself irrationally irritated by the fabric between them, sliding his hands beneath garterbelt and smallclothes both to grip Libra's bare hips.

Skin slid against skin, there, but rather than finding himself repulsed, Libra could only discover that he craved more, riding Lon'qu's lap with thick, rough thrusts, relishing in the weight, the stretch of where they were connected. He cupped his cock through the lace of his smallclothes, pressing there to inflame his arousal.

"Libra," Lon'qu warned, only to cut himself off with a hiss, a groan, when Libra only took that as a cue to move more timelessly, to a hard rhythm that could only end in a muffled cry and an orgasm.

Libra made a silent noise, his throat bobbing as it choked off the sound before it even began, and oddly enough it was the sight of the veil falling from flaxen hair that finished Lon'qu, the image that burned itself into his mind as he jerked his hips up and _came._

The high faded in degrees, and Lon'qu was still seeing the tiniest edge of glimmering spots when he registered Libra, spent, collapsed over his chest and taking heaving breaths. Lon'qu let their panting synchronize into steady breaths, for a moment, and then gently began to wrest Libra from all of his finery, slow and languidly.

* * *

"Libra," Lon'qu murmured later, when they'd burrowed into the blankets, naked, for reprieve from the chill of night. His lips pressed tenderly to the top of Libra's head, "I... you _know_ I'm not going anywhere, right?"

"Hm? What?" Libra roused himself to turn his head so their eyes met.

"I'm not... going to die, or. Or anything like that," Lon'qu answered after a moment. "Whatever it was that made you want... this."

"Lon'qu," Libra furrowed his brow, confused. "It's... White Day. A holiday to reciprocate the gifts of Saint Valentine's Day... isn't it?"

Lon'qu was silent for a moment as he quietly counted out the date, "... it is. But this is... to _touch you_ like this..."

"Is only a match for what you gave me," Libra whispered back, as if conveying a secret. "A moment of my vulnerability. Because... I care for you."

Lon'qu made a quiet, faintly embarrassed noise, and the sound of his heartbeat speeding up in his chest was all the answer Libra needed.


End file.
